


In The Heat Of Bangkok

by loves_books



Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Photo prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal takes Face to a clinic in Bangkok (based on a 'Hangover Part 2' wall)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Heat Of Bangkok

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delorita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/gifts).
  * Inspired by [coverart for In the Heat of Bangkok](https://archiveofourown.org/works/991596) by [delorita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/pseuds/delorita). 



Face was only out of his sight for a matter of minutes, but Hannibal had to force himself to sit still and not pace up and down the waiting room. They were drawing enough attention anyway, two Americans in this tiny clinic in the middle of Bangkok, although calling it a clinic was probably being generous. Either way, there was a large red cross outside, and Hannibal had wanted Face patched up before they made their way back to the yacht where Murdock and BA were due to meet them.

Only a matter of minutes, but it felt like hours. With the mission complete and no more planning to be done, Hannibal had far too long to replay the scene in his mind over and over again, and each time the reality of what could have happened hit home a little harder. An idiot on a motorbike with a gun. A parting shot over a shoulder, not really aimed but finding a target anyway. Face falling to the floor of that filthy alley, a cry of pain ripped from his lips. Blood on that loose white shirt Hannibal loved so much, the shirt Face had borrowed from him that morning with a cheeky smile. Face alive, clutching his arm. Bleeding, but alive.

Six inches to the right and his boy would be dead. Six inches was all it would have taken. Face would have been dead, instantly, that bullet ripping through his chest and stopping his heart. Six inches. If the bike had swerved, or if the idiot had shifted his aim, or if Face had been moving slower as he chased them… 

The door leading further into the clinic opened at last, breaking the cycle of ‘what-ifs’, and Hannibal lifted his head to see the wonderful sight of his lover walking through, tanned torso on display as he was only just now shrugging carefully back into that dirty white shirt. Hannibal resisted the urge to jump up and sweep Face into his arms, instead just looking his fill as his boy came across to join him. 

Face was clearly exhausted, dirty, sweaty, just as Hannibal was himself after a long mission that had seen them chasing through the seedy underbelly of Bangkok for days. Streaks of mud on that muscular chest, a neat white bandage wrapped around his left bicep. Caramel hair made darker by sweat, hanging limply in loose curls around his head. Aviator sunglasses already in place, that red tint hiding the beautiful blue of his boy’s eyes but not disguising the tired smile Hannibal could see lurking there.

“You okay?” he asked as Face finished manoeuvring his left arm into the sleeve at last, keeping his voice low.

“Six stitches, Boss. Can you believe it?” No trace of pain in Face’s voice, just a typical moan that made Hannibal smile.

“At least you aren’t bleeding anymore.”

“True.” With a sigh, Face dropped down into the seat beside Hannibal, doing up just a single button on that filthy shirt before slumping in his chair, letting his head fall back against the window. “We really had to stop? There’s a first aid kit on the boat, y’know.”

“Not worth the risk, kid.” Hannibal watched as Face swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing gently in his sweat-slicked throat, before licking his lips. Clearing his own throat, adjusting his pants slightly, he continued, “We had this conversation already. In this heat, the risk of infection – ”

“I know, I know.” Face heaved another sigh, shifting slightly in his chair until he was leaning against Hannibal. His overheated body should have been unbearable in the sticky heat of Bangkok, but instead Hannibal revelled in the feeling of having his lover alive and close by his side. “You worry too much,” his boy murmured softly.

Hannibal chuckled in response, dropping his cheek to rest on those sweaty curls for just a moment. “And you don’t worry enough. The last thing I need is you getting sick on the boat. We’ve got a good four hours out there before we get to the rendezvous remember? And I was hoping we’d have time for other, more pleasant activities.”

“You know I love you, Hannibal, but right now, I don’t even know if I’ve got the energy to make it back to the harbour, let alone the energy for anything more… energetic.”

“Elegantly put.” Hannibal kissed his boy’s sticky forehead above the glasses, a smile on his face. “I was thinking more along the lines of a shower. A long, cool shower.”

Face made a soft noise deep in his throat, almost a purr. “Oh yeah, boss…” he drawled, letting his legs splay open as he slumped further into the chair. “And ice? Lots of ice?”

“Lots of ice, just for you. I promise.” God, the thought of ice was amazing, and Hannibal suddenly realised again just how sweaty and disgusting he was as well. “And for me,” he added, and Face laughed this time, a wonderful, clear sound amidst the cacophony of shouts drifting in from the street outside.

In Bangkok, at least, they didn’t have to hide their relationship. No one in the clinic batted an eye as Hannibal lifted his arm and draped it around his boy’s shoulders, tugging him into a loose embrace for a second. That was as much as they could both bear, even that leaving any naked patches of skin stuck together, and they peeled themselves apart with matching grimaces.

“I fucking hate this,” Face moaned as Hannibal mustered the energy to climb to his feet, tugging at his shirt where it had become glued to his back. “Nowhere on earth needs to be this hot.”

“Says the man who spends every spare minute sunbathing.” Hannibal extended a hand to his boy, gently pulling him up until they stood side by side. Face groaned theatrically, his hand far too hot in Hannibal’s own, but Hannibal kept pulling until they were close enough for their lips to meet in a gentle kiss. Both of them really were far too hot and bothered for anything more than a quick peck, though Hannibal knew Face appreciated it as much as he did. It really had been too close this time, despite Face’s casual dismissal of the whole thing.

“Sunbathing is different to just roasting alive,” Face grumbled as they separated, though the smile on his sweaty face told Hannibal he wasn’t really complaining. With a nod to the young Thai girl manning the desk, they walked together back out of the clinic into the chaos of the street, and the ridiculous heat and humidity hit them again. “This is like breathing cotton wool.” 

Hannibal squinted in the bright sun as he checked his watch, having to step backwards suddenly when a cyclist veered in front of him. “We’ve got an hour to get to the boat, kid. You can take it a little longer. We’ve been in worse places.” Face just huffed at him, adjusting his white shirt where it clung to his toned body, accentuating every curve and dip. “Hey,” Hannibal suddenly called, catching Face by his left wrist as he started moving down the street, stopping him in his tracks. “No more bullets, okay?”

A soft laugh, almost lost as a car horn blared somewhere nearby. “You know they come with the job, right, Colonel?” And yes, of course he was right. Bullets were the least of the dangers they faced on a daily basis, doing the jobs they did.

“Still, no more.” Hannibal brushed the back of his fingers gently across the bandage on his lover’s upper arm, barely visible beneath his shirt. “Seeing you like that, Temp…”

“I’m fine, John. Really.” Face stepped closer for another kiss, and Hannibal let himself just breathe in his boy as they tasted each other. Salty sweat, yes, and dirt, but underneath everything was the uniqueness that was just Face. 

Again, too hot by far to deepen the kiss, and they stepped back at the same time, both breathing hard, gasping in the thick air. “Come on, kid,” Hannibal said, taking Face’s hand firmly in his own as they fell into step, the busy street miraculously parting before them to allow them through. “Cool shower, lots of ice, soft bed, luxury yacht. You did a good job with the scams this time.”

“What do you mean, ‘this time’?” Indignation in Face’s voice, though there was a laugh there too. “I always do a good job! And it’s better than good, Boss, I mean, you have to see this yacht, it’s got cabins like you wouldn’t believe…” 

And side by side they blazed a path through the chaos and heat of Bangkok, laughing together despite their exhaustion, despite Face’s bullet graze. And for a time, they could have been just tourists, just two men together and in love, rather than two members of the world’s most elite special forces team.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written to accompany a wall by the very talented Delorita, using photos from The Hangover 2. Thanks for the inspiration Del!


End file.
